Chapter 215
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 215
Chapter Title: The Third Wanderer -1-
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"Kuh..."
The Fourth Knight tried his best to walk as if nothing was wrong, but he couldn't hold it in and let a groan slip through his lips.
Every step sent throbs pounding through his skull, and the metallic tang of blood prickled up his throat.
His muscles screamed in agony, waves of sharp pain crashing over him at every moment, threatening to throw off his gait.
Duke Amarrans's spear had been trouble enough, but that bastard Platinum's fists packed a punch like no other.
And on top of that, the humiliating contract...
"Hurry up, you fool."
No time to get lost in thought—the duke prodded his broad back with the spear tip from behind, urging him onward.
They arrived under the duke's watchful eye, his spear at the ready and radiating a murderous aura.
After changing into spare clothes prepared inside,
dealing with the bloodstains and his messed-up hair with the help of attendants came first.
Once they'd cleaned up their appearance and made themselves presentable, they headed to the audience chamber and began the scheduled proceedings.
The people who spotted Duke Amarrans approaching with Viscount Floyd sprang into action.
"I'll send word."
"..."
Standing like criminals before the ornate doors of the audience chamber, the Fourth Knight awaited a response.
-You may enter.
At Eclair's voice, the doors swung open, and Cedric Floyd stepped inside with as much formality as he could muster.
...
...
There was nothing left for the Fourth Knight to do but bow his head and take the scolding.
The emperor's furious shouts rained down, and aside from the raised volume, the audience itself was straightforward enough.
Everything unfolded exactly as the duke had predicted: hearing about the mess Floyd had caused through testimony, the emperor unleashing his rage, and even the fact that the politically neutral Fourth Knight had been swept up in events and tilted toward the imperial faction.
'That blockhead wouldn't know politics if it hit him.'
Having tumbled into this from the neutral camp, the Fourth Knight would be hard-pressed to escape puppet status.
The only surprise might have been how much more favor that adventurer friend of his enjoyed from the imperial side than expected.
The elderly ruler of the empire, veins bulging in his neck as he vented his fury over the Fourth Knight's blunder, grew exhausted and ended the reprimand early, retiring to his chambers.
Duke Amarrans, now free to return to his domain, didn't leave right away.
His mouth itching for talk, he chatted with Eclair, who was standing by for the handover.
"...His Majesty seems quite taken with that adventurer friend of yours."
The duke dragged over a chair from somewhere and sat, reminiscing about the audience.
"As you know, the imperial commissions have never failed—that's probably the biggest factor."
Eclair stood rigidly before the massive doors, staring straight ahead with a stiff expression as she replied.
"Ho~ Indeed, His Majesty mentioned as much. To think the adventurers had talent like that—the empire's future looks bright. I can stretch out in my domain without a care. Hahaha!!"
A thick sense of satisfaction welled up from seeing Roman recognized, nearly tugging the duke's lips into an uncontrolled grin.
But Eclair suppressed her emotions as best she could and added one more line.
"The speed at which they resolve commissions has always exceeded expectations—that's likely another reason for the high praise."
"I didn't expect such glowing reviews from the Silver Nix captain."
Eclair shook her head, realizing her slip as the duke's tone rose in surprise.
"That's not my personal opinion... I simply summarized the reasons His Majesty seeks and favors that adventurer based on official duties."
The duke fell deep into thought, his habitual mustache-twiddling fingers coming to a halt.
Eclair kept her gaze forward, focused on duty, and after a long pause, he finally spoke.
"Heavens! If only my youngest daughter weren't getting married this time, I'd have tried to pair them up."
Eclair clenched her teeth to maintain a blank expression at the duke's words, stripped of any humor.
Her eyebrows twitched in response.
"...You took quite a liking to the adventurer?"
"Liking doesn't even cover it—hard to put into words, but especially those fierce eyes of his. In front of that guy, even Cedric's just a fake pretending to be a beast."
A few more exchanges, and he might have pinned down exactly what kind of man he was.
Eclair felt a mix of emotions at the duke's regret over their first meeting being so stiff and formal.
"I see..."
"Urus might not hold the title of top adventurer among them for much longer. Starting from nothing—no title, no backing—and reaching Platinum at his age? Impressive."
The duke laughed heartily, clarifying it wasn't meant as a comparison to Eclair, then tacked on the tail end.
His face hardened as if the laughter had been a lie, and he muttered to himself, weaving in complaints with utmost caution.
"Even if I had another daughter now, it'd be too late. Adopting a girl wouldn't save face for the ducal house and Platinum..."
"..."
Eclair had no words for the duke seriously pondering what any normal person would dismiss as nonsense.
Robert snatched some snacks, flopped onto the bed, and clamped a liquor bottle between his teeth.
'Is that bastard Isaac planning to never show up?'
Robert could definitely sense something off about his current situation.
Just until today.
Wait just one more day.
If he doesn't come tomorrow, I'll head out and track Isaac down.
'Sleep it off, and this time for real...'
He'd thought the same last time, but his resolve was different now.
"Yaaawn~"
Succumbing to the sleep that washed over him with the alcohol buzz, he closed his eyes in the dark room—and opened them again.
This time, it really was different.
His drunken, gluttonous lifestyle, with bottles rolling everywhere, had truly come to an end.
Forcibly.
"Wha...?"
He opened his eyes to sunlight slapping his face without warning.
Having escaped the dark room to face the sun again felt almost holy, like an undead beholding divine power—Robert squinted.
A quick look around revealed an unfamiliar blue forest.
Fresh air, pleasant birdsong—and in stark contrast, Robert's mind spun in dizzying confusion.
"Wh-what the hell!"
He was tied to a chair with ropes, bound tight.
For a moment, he thought it was a dream, but the pain biting into his wrists and ankles was no illusion.
And this chair—it was from the inn.
"Fuck...! What is this!"
His frustrated curses echoed through the forest.
Creak! Creak!
Struggling only rocked the chair; the ropes wouldn't budge no matter how they'd been tied, squeezing his flesh tighter.
The moment he tried to summon mana to snap them,
"Shh. Quiet."
Something cold and metallic pressed against his throat.
The sharp, unyielding point seemed ready to end him at any second.
Having wielded a sword in the Knight Department at the academy, he knew exactly what it was.
"...!"
Frozen, barely breathing, he glanced down to see a razor-sharp dagger and a black-gloved hand covering the skin.
Thick fingers—probably a man's.
"Scream, and I'll shove this blade in your mouth and twist."
A voice whose owner and even gender he couldn't place.
Distorted and grating, clearly not natural.
Whatever the situation, Robert's head told him it was bad news.
"I-Isaac?"
He knew it couldn't be, but he called out the name of the friend he'd desperately hoped for anyway.
"Shut up and listen. Ask questions without permission or turn your head, and I'll put holes in you one by one. That I didn't blindfold you is the extent of my mercy."
"..."
The bloodlust left no room for defiance, the pressure like his body was being crushed.
Somehow familiar, yet the terror froze his mind.
Feeling the blade at his throat tense, Robert's jaw began to tremble.
"Do exactly as I say. Then I'll give you a real clue to get home."
Not the estate or domain, but 'real' home? Get home? Clue?
The words held special meaning for Robert, stirring hope amid the fear.
"No way..."
"Drop the idea that you're special."
Who the hell was behind him?
How did they know him, track him down—what did they know? Endless questions bubbled up in his head.
His heart pounded wildly, emotions and excitement peaking!
But a massive problem overshadowed it.
The lethal pressure demanding silence was right there behind him.
Pure instinct.
The sense honed surviving death once before.
'Monster... this guy's a monster...'
The lunatic who'd smashed his arm and tried to kill him back then.
This could be a monster beyond even that unkillable madman, limbs broken and all.
His chattering jaw wouldn't stop—clack! clack! clack!
"You know how to use it."
Thud!
A familiar scroll tumbled across the ground before him.
"Ah! This!"
The Mallory family seal on the scroll.
The magic circle scroll that should be with Isaac—in the hands of his kidnapper?
'Did something happen to Isaac...?'
Hope crashed, ominous thoughts and feelings churning his mind into chaos.
Whoosh!
A sharp gust sliced through; the ropes parted cleanly, freeing his limbs.
He hadn't even felt whatever cut them.
"This isn't a deal. No questions—if you don't want to die, pour mana into the magic circle."
"...Y-yes, got it."
A nudge from a foot against his back left no choice.
Rubbing his aching wrists, Robert crouched, unrolled the scroll on the ground,
and reluctantly channeled mana. The circle glowed and activated.
Crack—crackle!
Using it shattered dimensional fragments.
Nothing surprising anymore.
"Don't leave the capital until I contact you again."
He caught the implication that they'd find him anywhere.
The moment someone emerged from the dimensional rift,
Robert's consciousness cut out.